


Holiday Drabbles 2004

by monaboyd_archivist



Category: Highlander: The Series, The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: BDSM, Crossover, Drabble, Drabble Collection, First Time, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Filming Lord of the Rings (Movies), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-06
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 13:39:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4437596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monaboyd_archivist/pseuds/monaboyd_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Note from Shirasade: this story was originally archived at the Monaboyd.net Archive, which was closed in September 2014 due to software issues and a lack of new submissions for several years . To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2014. I e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on the Monaboyd.net Archive collection profile.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. C is For Cookie

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Shirasade: this story was originally archived at the Monaboyd.net Archive, which was closed in September 2014 due to software issues and a lack of new submissions for several years . To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2014. I e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on the Monaboyd.net Archive collection profile.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for xsquotessuch, my darling Katie. For unwittingly given inspiration...

  
_Glasgow, Scotland 1974_  
“When you get married, it should be to someone perfect, Billy.” His mother smiled, tucking another batch of biscuits into the oven. Billy nodded happily, inhaling the homey scents of baking, fresh pine and Christmas.

“Don’t be silly, Mary-mine,” his father laughed, walking into the kitchen just then, Margaret in tow. “He’ll never find a perfect girl, like I did. As long as his love makes him happy, he’ll be a lucky man.” He bent to kiss his wife, as Maggie rolled her eyes, and Billy pretended to gag on his fruitcake.

In lonelier years, he would remember, and smile.

 

 _South Island, New Zealand 1999_  
The air was cooling as Billy approached the beachhouse, but the heat inside was sweltering. Yet despite the surely unbearable temperatures in the kitchen, Billy could hear Dom singing cheerfully as he finished the holiday baking. “C is for Cookie, that’s good enough for me!”

He couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t the same as his childhood Christmases, that was certain. It was something all Dom, just like the joyful embrace when his mate realized he was home. And when Billy leaned in and tasted cocoa and brandied fruitcake and the boy he loved, he thought it just might be… _perfect_.


	2. May/December...but of what year?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For mercurialbeing. A Lotrips/Highlander crossover.
> 
> 100 words.

“I’ve always had a thing for snarky older men.” The boy was flirting with him, hips cocked in open challenge or invitation, and Methos was surprised to find himself tempted. Conventional beauty left him unmoved, but something in the lad’s crookedly exquisite charm and unreserved nature appealed.

“What about you,” Dom pressed, eyes dark and inviting. “Ever go for a younger bloke?” The question was deliberate, multilayered, risky, and the ancient immortal smiled despite himself, enjoying the boy’s foolish courage.

Swayed, he bent and whispered his answer into the tempting heat of the younger man’s mouth. “You have no idea.”


	3. Arrangements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For msilverstar, who made me write Viggo. Viggo/Dom, Viggo/Billy, Dom/Billy.
> 
> 300 words.

With Dom, he’s a substitute. Their routine is simple: Dom comes to him, often on his knees, never on his back. Needing to be bent over tables, pushed face-first against a wall, pressed down on all fours and fucked, eyes always closed while he dreams of someone else. Viggo doesn’t mind. Dom’s face is beautiful when he’s sucking Viggo’s cock. The line of his back is graceful, simple, and strong when Viggo fucks him into the oblivion he craves. Dom’s tongue is crude, his hands elegant, his need a tangible decadence in which Viggo indulges. Viggo is biding his time.

With Billy, he’s a stepping stone. A way to learn if all those shameful, long-denied fantasies and desires are as exciting in reality. Billy only comes to him when he’s drunk. He needs patience, guidance, a man to fuck for the first time. Viggo doesn’t mind. Billy’s skin is delicate, flushing vividly as Viggo sucks him off, as Viggo guides Billy’s hard, straining cock slowly, finally inside his body. The desperate arch of his neck is viscerally stunning when he comes. The raw need in his eyes when he sees Dom in Viggo’s doorway is magnificent. Viggo is done waiting.

With Viggo, they’re indebted. It’s a debt they’ll willingly pay, bodies writhing for the camera as they writhe for each other.

 _Flash_ The hesitant touch of Billy’s hand on Dom’s face.

 _Flash_ Dom’s tongue sliding wetly into Billy’s mouth.

 _Flash_ Dom’s body held taut, trying not to thrust his cock further between Billy’s perfect, swollen lips.

 _Flash_ The hunger written on Billy’s face as he presses Dom tenderly down on his back, kisses a tensed calf muscle, sinks slowly into him.

 _Flash_ Dom’s eyes as they both come: wide, disbelieving, thankful.

Viggo smiles. There are rolls and rolls to go.


	4. Missing Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For _jamjar. As fluffy as I could make it without adding a ears and a tail.
> 
> 100 words.

Dom’s staring out the window.

Billy walks up behind him, presses a mug with cocoa (extra whipping cream) into his hands. Dom smiles as Billy wraps his own hands around his mate’s, cradling the mug between them.

“Missing home?”

Dom looks wistful. “I miss my mum, y’know? She and dad always make such a big fuss over the holidays, and Matt…and the kids…I miss them a lot.”

Before Billy can speak, Dom sets the mug aside and takes his hands. “But I don’t miss my home.” He smiles. “He’s right here with me.”

And when they kiss, Billy’s home, too.


	5. Switch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For merrybrandypunk. Dom/Bean.
> 
> 200 words.

  
_Flash._ The photographer thanked them and moved off, but Dom kept his arm wrapped tight around the other man’s neck. Fuck, but Sean smelled good. He let his other hand prowl across the washboard stomach, feeling Sean’s tolerant, amused smile against his cheek.

Something twisted in his gut. He was sick of this, sick of being the source of tolerant amusement. Viggo, Billy – his mind shied away from that thought – now Sean. Fuck this. He twisted his head sharply and sunk his teeth deep, without warning, into the corded muscle of the other man’s neck. Sean stiffened, gasped. Dom smiled.

*

Dom licked the harsh red bitemark with a smile of hard satisfaction. Sean’s wrists were bound to the headboard, his body twisted beneath Dom, struggling against the younger man’s weight and will. Dom’s cuffs lay abandoned on the bedside table. He wouldn’t need them tonight. Dom wedged a knee between powerful thighs, forcing them apart, and sat back to look at Sean’s strong back and muscular arse, spread out before him. He scraped sharp nails over the tempting curve, teased the sensitive opening, enjoying Sean’s shudder, and the hoarse, reluctant, needy cry. “Please.”

Dom smiled, triumphant. Not so funny anymore.


	6. If Not Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For matildabj. Day on Teh One Hug. Hint of D/s.
> 
> 200 words.

  
_Later._ Dom wrinkles his nose at the memory of Billy’s curt reply to his last IM yesterday. He looks around, spotting his mate at a table with David, signing autographs. His mouth goes dry, as it always does. He makes his way through the crowd.

The greetings are superfluous, all for show, for all that they’re genuine. Dom is distracted, enthralled by Billy’s grin, the sparkle in his tired green eyes. It isn’t until he’s clasped tight to his mate that he even registers the hard-on he’s pressing desperately into Billy’s thigh, and the word whispered in his ear. _Soon._

*

His back arches off the bed, pleading for release in the wetvelvetheat of Billy’s mouth. But his mate pulls back with a smug grin, a last lingering lick up Dom’s hard, pulsing cock. Dom wants to beg, but the words stick as he feels slick fingers find his entrance, push in, spread him open. He watches in helpless fascination as Billy lubes his own cock and thrusts in. His mate’s smile is hard and fierce now, to match his rhythm as he fucks Dom into the mattress. As he drives in deep, he grasps Dom’s cock, strokes, squeezes, commands. _Now._  



	7. 18 Favorite Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For pardiana. Fluffy fluff, in dialogue form.
> 
> 100 words.

“You love my ears.”

“You think so?”

“And my hands.”

“Possibly.”

“And my cooking.”

“Can’t deny that.”

“C’mon, Bills. I did my favorite 18 things about _you_.”

“And it’s a miracle our publicists didn’t kill us after _that_ interview.”

“Are you saying I’m not subtle?”

“I’m saying you wouldn’t know ‘subtle’ if it came up and bit you, Dom.”

“I might concede that…if you’ll tell me your 18 favorite things.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Because?”

“I’d rather show you.”

“Oh. I think I could settle for that.”

“I thought you might.”

“Billy?”

“Yes, Dom?”

“Why’re you still talking?”


	8. Possession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For aire_blair. Bean/Dom/Billy porny goodness. Implied D/s.
> 
> 200 words.

There wouldn’t be a next time. Sean knew it the minute Dom managed to lure Billy into bed with them. Three bodies intertwined, writhing on his bed, hot, wet mouths slick on hungry, straining flesh. And Billy’s eyes boring into his, the green gone hard with lust and possession. _This is mine_ , they said, as he spread Dom open from behind, holding Sean’s glance, jaw taut and beautiful lips parted in a victorious snarl, as he thrust in deep. Dom arched between them, whimpered pleas for more reverberating over his curling tongue and around Sean’s stiff cock, taking Sean suddenly to the brink of his control and beyond, as he came hard in the younger man’s mouth.

Spent, he watched as Billy bent over Dom, still thrusting, and licked a faded bruise Sean had left on his shoulder. A flash of neat, sharp teeth, and a sharper cry of pleasure-pain, and Sean saw, for the last time, Dom coming apart before him, open and vulnerable and giving as he came hard and shuddering on the sheets. It was Billy’s name on his lips.

And Billy smiled as he came, eyes fierce and possessive in victory and pleasure and completion. _Mine._  



	9. It started with a pair of button fly jeans...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the_larch. More [Button Fly](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4437575), as requested. ;) Gratuitous references to that fic.
> 
> 150 words.
> 
> [link adjusted to AO3 copy by archivist]

If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought Billy was checking him out.

When he first showed off his new button fly jeans, so tight he barely had room to breathe, he’d caught something flashing in his mate’s eyes, opened wide, clear green slightly glassy with…surprise, surely. But that hadn’t stopped Dom from getting so hard, so fast that he was sure he’d bust an already-strained inseam.

He’d had to turn away quickly on some pretense, bending over to tie his shoes before suddenly realizing he was offering up his arse on display, as if…well, as if it were something that might tempt Billy. Which was stupid, he knew that.

But when he straightened and turned, and saw Billy still staring – probably lost in thought – his perfect lip caught between sharp teeth, Dom promptly hardened even further, and thought succinctly: _fuck_.

It was going to be a very long night.


	10. otp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For piratesorka. Silliness and semi-serious discussion of the otp in its variations, in dialogue form.
> 
> 600 words.

“There’s an awful lot of _you_ in Charlie, isn’t there?”

“Yeah, but no more than there is in, say, Geoffrey. And don’t you put yourself into your characters, even if they aren’t like you?”

“Who…the loan shark?”

“I said _not_ like you.”

“Oh, now you’re asking for it – ”

“Hey, I liked you in that! You’re sexy when you’re angry. But no, I actually meant someone like Jamie.”

“Jamie Holmes? That was one episode of one programme.”

“But you worked hard on him. And put some of yourself into him, too, because there are things about Jamie that’re a lot like you. He didn’t like to be touched…by strangers, I mean, so stop that. And neither did you, when we first met. I hugged you, and you looked at me like you weren’t sure whether or not I might bite.”

“Didn’t find that out for sure until later.”

“Hold that thought, I’m trying to make a point here.”

“Which is?”

“Which is…I mean, we know Merry and Pippin fit together like…well, like Merry and Pippin. Which might be because we put a part of ourselves into them.”

“Or because, you know, Tolkien wrote them as inseparable.”

“Quiet, you. I’m trying to be serious. I just think…well…this is going to sound silly…”

“As opposed to…?”

“You’re not making this any easier.”

“Wasn’t trying to.”

“Bastard. Just listen, would you? I think…Geoffrey and Jamie might’ve quite liked each other.”

“Dom…”

“What?”

“You do realize you’re playing yenta to imaginary characters, don’t you?”

“I just…you know, you work so hard at getting a character _right_ that some of you stays in the performance, in the character itself. And…you have to admit, we _fit_ , right from the start. So…wouldn’t it stand to reason that the parts of ourselves we left in our characters might fit together, too?”

“…”

“Billy?”

“I can’t figure out whether be amazed at how much time you’ve obviously spent thinking about this…or just at the passion in your poetic little speech.”

“Fine, take the piss.”

“Dom, wait. Come back here. I was being serious. That’s…a little odd, yes, but sweet in its way. Romantic, even. And probably true.”

“You…wait, really?”

“Yes, really. Get over here, you big softy…oof! Shift over – that’s better. You’ve put on a bit of weight to play Charlie, haven’t you?”

“Is that a complaint?”

“Not at all. I thought I made that clear last night.”

“Randy bugger.”

“Well, you’re in a good position to know…”

“Were you making some point before we got off on this little tangent?”

“Not _that_ little, I’ll have you know…and actually yes, I was. This theory of yours…I agree that it works for Merry and Pippin, of course. And Jamie and Geoffrey, that I could see. I mean, your Geoffrey was a sweet boy, patient, a little odd…maybe – _maybe_ – just what young Jamie might need. But then, how about the others? Who’s for my loan shark, then? He’s not such a loveable lad as Jamie.”

“Actually…I thought Charlie.”

“Charlie? Not that he’s the healthiest bloke around, but the loan shark’s a mean fucker. I should know.”

“Maybe that’s what he likes about him.”

“There really is a lot of you Charlie, isn’t there?”

“Cunt.”

“Wanker.”

“Fucker.”

“Is that a hint?”

“No, _this_ is a hint.”

“Well, then…I stand corrected.”

“Sit corrected, you mean.”

“Did you want to get off me?”

“No…mmmhh…this is…fine.”

“Mmmfuck. Good point there.”

“Glad you thought I had _one_ , at least. Oh God…”

“Stop wiggling, or this’ll be over before it’s begun. And you did have one…other…point… _fuck_. Do that again.”

“What’s – oh Christ, yes – what’s that?”

“We…GodyesDom…we _fit_.”


	11. choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For whimsicalmusing. NC-17 relating to Dom's reference to being up all night with Billy, at Comiccon.
> 
> Implied Billy/Ali.
> 
> 450 words.

Dom looks around the empty VIP room of the convention center, sleepy, distracted, shivering in the air-conditioned chill. Be there at 9, his publicist’d said. And try to look alive.

He shifts his sore jaw, and slips a finger under one of his leather cuffs, testing the raw skin. Wonders what _alive_ looks like.

Knows what it feels like.

_Dom’s on his knees in the hotel room, naked, hard, wrists cuffed behind his back, Billy’s hand twisted tight in his hair. His jaw forced wide open, the taste of salt, sweat and precum on his tongue, rubbed and smeared by thick, hot, heavy flesh sliding in and out._

He barely hears the ringing over the sound of his own labored breath, the pounding of blood in his ears, Billy grunting and hissing at the twist of his tongue and clench of his throat. And then Billy’s pulling away abruptly, grabbing his mobile off the bedside stand.

“Hello, love.”

He releases Dom’s hair, walks into the other room, still talking. Dom’s ears strain to catch random words, his head bowed, jaw clenched painfully as he waits.

“Love you, too. Ring you in the morning. Bye.”

Billy steps up behind Dom, releases the binding on his cuffs with a flick of the wrist, and walks away again. A moment later, the coffeemaker whirs to life, and Billy returns, sits down on the bed in front of him, eyeing him calmly.

Dom swallows hard, confused. Billy’s not getting dressed, not kicking Dom out of his room. Just…waiting.

Giving him the choice, then and there, he realizes suddenly. A one-time offer. Stay or leave. Share Billy’s love or have none at all. Sparse, stolen nights, secretive fucks and lonely mornings – or no Billy. The irony chokes him. He gave Billy total control so long ago he can’t remember, and now when he’s offered a choice…he has none. He never did.

He gets up slowly, feeling Billy’s total attention with a bitter thrill. One step. Two. Three. He drops to his knees once again, bows his head, and rests his forearms on Billy’s parted knees. His wrists crossed between, palms skyward, offered up. No choice.

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, pain and soreness screaming through him, worse than he’s felt in years. He’s aching, bruised, marked in every place that can’t be seen. His eyelids and throat burn as he remembers stumbling exhaustedly to his car, as Billy dialed Ali’s number. He shivers again in the cold emptiness of the room.

The door opens. “Mr. Monaghan? Would you come with me? It’s time for your panel.”

He rises carefully, finding a smile that masks his tense jaw and tight throat, and follows. No choice.


	12. Give

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus for whimsicalmusing. I wrote it for someone else, decided it wasn't working and wasn't right for that person, and was going to throw it out, but she liked it. Also because I was channeling her when I wrote it. :)
> 
> 100 words.

Wrists bound tourniquet-tight by Billy’s belt, pushed uncomfortably high between shoulder blades. His body bent backward in a painful arc. His naked, straining cock jammed roughly against the door, Billy’s other hand crushing his defiant sneer. _Give._ Billy’s cock is thick, intrusive. The first burning thrust bends him further, harder. Heat shudders through him, a shimmering torture; he swallows a cry. Billy’s hand abandons his mouth, twists in his hair, pulls him back roughly for a hungry, bruising kiss, tasting of blood. The second in which Billy’s tongue, teeth draw away, before his hand replaces them, Dominic breaks. _Don’t stop._  



	13. Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom considers the risk of taking the next step. Minor Orlijah cameo. Written for light_the_sky76. 550 words.

“They’re going to have olive-skinned children with perfect hair and freakishly large blue eyes,” Dom predicts solemnly.

“Perfect hair?” Billy raises an eyebrow, looking away from the pair in question. Who happen to be taking advantage of the DJ’s questionable resurrection of Total Eclipse of the Heart by attempting a tango, effectively clearing the dance floor of innocent bystanders.

“From Orli,” Dom clarifies. “Obviously. Not like Elwood’s had good hair since we’ve known him.”

“Obviously,” Billy agrees, with a hint of a smile.

Dom shakes his head, thoughtfully. “I couldn’t even imagine dating a mate.”

The words come easily, though he’s imagined it a million times. Probably because the only mate that interests him might as well be on the moon, for all the chance Dom has, he thinks dejectedly.

“Couldn’t you?”

Dom glances quickly at Billy, who’s doing that eyebrow thing again. And his eyes are glinting with something – no, must be the light.

He shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “So much could go wrong, you know?” He doesn’t realise he’s holding his breath, or just how much his body language gives him away.

“So much could go right,” Billy counters, and God, Dom wants to believe that’s an invitation in his eyes.

“It’s a huge risk,” he says, almost defensively.

“Could be worth it, though. If it was the right mate. And they were willing to take the risk.” Billy’s gaze is intent, unwavering.

Dom has no answer. He can’t pretend they’re talking about theoretical friendships anymore. He wants more than anything to agree, to answer the invitation in Billy’s eyes.

But he doesn’t. He’s paralysed. All he can think of are all the times he and Billy have laughed like maniacs over jokes only they would understand. All the times they’ve sat in comfortable silence, all the experiences they’ve already shared. The times they’ve been there for each other, when they wouldn’t have let anyone else get close. The way no one can make him laugh like Billy can, the way there’s nothing in the world like the shine in Billy’s eyes when Dom’s made him laugh himself breathless. Can he really risk all of that?

Billy’s standing now, perhaps taking Dom’s silence for disinterest. “If the boys ask, I was tired and went home early.” His voice is strangely calm. Strangely empty, impassive. Strangely not like Billy.

As Billy turns away, other possibilities wash over Dom. Laughing with Billy all night, and not having to crash on the couch. Taking their laughter and silences and comfort and understanding into bed with them. Being able to touch Billy in the few ways he can’t now, not really, tracing that upper lip with his fingertip, soft and slow; kissing Billy – really kissing him, slow and deep and lingering and hard and fast and hungry and sweet; being able to explore every inch of Billy with fingers, mouth, body. Being able to hold hands. Sleeping together, fucking, making love, and it being as perfect as _every other thing they do together_. Saying I love you, and letting Billy see that he means it. Letting the world see.

He’s risking all of that, too.

Billy’s headed out the door now, and he won’t make the offer again. Dom knows it instinctively. He takes a deep breath, stands up.

And takes a chance.


	14. Tides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom appreciates the moment. Written for vensre. 300 words.

There’s a breeze tonight that almost makes it seem like home. Inside, the party’s in full swing, hobbits and elves and uruk-hai mingling with castaways and musicians and writers (oh my!).

Dom grins, feeling love for each and every one of them, and not just because he’s had more beers than he can count tonight. He wishes his mum and dad could be here, but they’re ringing in this new year with Matt and Jenny and the kids.

Someone’s laughter spills out into the Hawaii night, finding Dom in his little hideaway down on the beach, and making him smile. He’s happy to have them all here, loves that they want to spend the holiday here with him. But at the same time, he needs this moment to sit here, and watch the waves, and let the year slip away as the new one flows in like the surf. To truly appreciate this moment, he needs to step away, just for a minute, to look at it from a distance and see how lucky he is.

He’s content to watch the merrymakers through the windows for just this short while, knowing he’ll go back in, in a few breaths, when he’s ready to rejoin the world.

The sounds of the party and the waves cover the footfalls in the sand, only the vibrations beneath Dom’s drawn-up legs and seat giving his visitor away.

“You lost?” Billy’s smiling as he says it, dropping down next to Dom, and looking out at the waves, close enough to touch.

“Nah.” Dom’s smile answers out of reflex and emotion. Only Billy could share this moment with him.

With Billy it ends, and begins anew.

After a moment, Dom reaches out and takes Billy’s hand, and they watch the tides, wordlessly saying goodbye and hello.


	15. Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy notices a pattern. Written for glitterbubbles. 450 words.

When Billy looks up from his paper to find Dom watching him out of the corner of his eye, he asks, “What?”

Dom shakes his head, and goes back to eating breakfast. “Nothing.”

 

When he’s standing at the bar, some giggly blonde playing with his hair, he looks over and catches the speculative look in Dom’s eye. “What?” he mouths, knowing he’ll never be heard this far away in a noisy pub.

“Nothing,” he reads on Dom’s lips, before his mate turns away.

 

When they’re filming Sam’s wedding scene, and Viggo grabs Billy and snogs him soundly, making him laugh, Billy finds Dom eyes, and their shuttered expression. When Peter calls “cut!” a minute later, muffled laughter in his voice, Billy sidles up and eyes Dom with concern. “What?” is all he asks.

“Nothing,” is all he gets in reply, before Dom resumes his conversation with Elijah.

 

When they’re all saying their goodbyes, finally, Billy looks over and sees Dom’s eyes, full of unshed tears, and he asks gently, “What?”

Dom looks away, and when he looks back, the tears are gone. “Nothing.”

 

When they’re thousands of miles apart, and Billy calls Dom in the middle of the night (only late afternoon for his mate), there’s a lull as Billy finishes talking about some bird he just chatted up, and he asks without thinking. “What?”

When Dom answers, he sounds much more than half a world away. “Nothing.”

 

When they’re back in New Zealand at last, at a barbeque at Peter and Fran’s to celebrate the cast reunion for pickups, Billy finds Dom alone on the back porch, looking out into the distance, his arms wrapped around himself. And Billy can’t help but ask. “What?”

As Dom turns away, his lips already forming the meaningless reply, Billy grabs his arm, startling him.

“It’s not nothing,” Billy asks, studying Dom’s tired, resigned expression, and it’s barely a question. “Is it?”

“No,” Dom whispers his agreement, avoiding his mate’s glance. “It’s something.”

“Tell me.” Billy finds he’s pleading.

And Dom looks at him, his eyes full of things Billy’s seen a million times and never recognised. Billy’s mouth falls open, but he doesn’t have any words.

“So,” Dom says quietly. “Now you can stop asking.”

He starts to pull away, but Billy’s grip tightens, and becomes sure. Dom blinks, confused. “What?”

Billy takes a deep breath, meets Dom’s gaze, and smiles, and everything that he should have figured out long ago is written is his eyes. “It’s about time you asked.” He reaches for his best mate, an awkward, fumbling first kiss that slides into a slow, tender, heated exchange that answers questions they never thought to ask.

And yeah. It’s something.


End file.
